


You Are The Ocean (And I'm Good At Drowning)

by clavicular



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Femdom, Kink In Public, Leashes, Obedience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 15:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clavicular/pseuds/clavicular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Wear a tie,</i> the text says. <i>Don't be late.</i></p>
<p>'Request' isn't the right word for it, but Chris uses it anyway, as often as he can. Lydia's voice sends chills up his spine every time she corrects him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are The Ocean (And I'm Good At Drowning)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt given to me by Vociferocity (Chris/Lydia, leashes) and for this year's porn battle (Chris Argent/any female character, desire, decisions)

Chris gets the text ten minutes before he leaves, and he's pretty sure Lydia planned it that way. It means he doesn't have time to think about it or wonder why before he changes to accommodate the request.   
  
 _Wear a tie,_  the text says.  _Don't be late._  
  
'Request' isn't the right word for it, but Chris uses it anyway, as often as he can. Lydia's voice sends chills up his spine every time she corrects him.   
  
Chris ends up having to iron a new shirt to match the tie, and arrives at the restaurant three minutes late. Lydia is silent when he sits down, but her single raised eyebrow says enough for both of them. Chris doesn't try to apologize. It wouldn't do any good. To his relief though, she just rolls her eyes with something close to a smile and beckons over a waiter. She orders shrimp for him, which she knows he hates, but if this is his punishment then he'll accept it gladly. He was half afraid she'd ask him to do something like get on his knees for her, right there in front of everyone, just to prove he remembers his place. The worst part is he knows he'd do it. He'd do it in a heartbeat, fuck the shame and consequences. He'd love it. Fear and desire aren't so very different after all, even if that sounds like something Kate might have said.   
  
Lydia asks him about his day while they wait for the entrees, and they talk in hints and codes about the rogue werewolf Chris has been trying to hunt down and Lydia's attempts to synthesise the active components of wolfsbane. Chris almost forgets about the text she'd sent, putting it down as just another detail of control, something she revels in and Chris can't get enough of. Halfway through the main course though, Lydia's hand slides across the table. Chris goes still, eyes fixed on his meal, waiting to see what she'll do. She reaches for him, brushing his tie aside to trail fingers up his chest. She drags a fingernail across one of his buttons, and god, if she starts undressing him here Chris doesn't know what he'll do. He looks up to find her grinning at him, like she knows exactly what he's thinking.   
  
"This is hardly the appropriate time," he mutters.   
  
"No," Lydia agrees, "but I've never been a fan of propriety."   
  
She slips her hand through the opening of his shirt in the gap between buttons, and the tips of her fingers feel electric against his skin. He glances furtively at the nearby tables, but their occupants all look fairly absorbed in their own conversations. Lydia laughs and withdraws her hand. Christhinks she's going to lean back again, but she doesn't. Instead she grabs onto his tie, winding it around her knuckles and pulling him closer. The sensation of fabric tightening around his neck makes Chris' heart speed up, and the gleam in Lydia's eyes is almost too much for him to bear. She kisses him, light and teasing, with teeth catching at his bottom lip and lipstick smearing against the corner of his mouth. He parts his lips and accepts whatever she'll give him - every time he tries to kiss back she pulls away. It's so frustrating, nowhere near enough, and he's achingly hard by the time she stops. He stares at her for a long minute, mind too unfocused to form words. There's a smudge of lipstick on his skin, he thinks, and he goes to wipe it off. Lydia catches his wrist and puts it back on the table. She makes it look like they're holding hands.   
  
"Finish your meal," she says, and then releases his wrist.  
  
Chris nearly groans. He doesn't want to erase the taste of her mouth and he doesn't want her to let go of his tie. He wants to just stay like this, or better yet go back to his place and give himself up to her completely. Lydia is already loosening her grip on his tie though, letting it slide through her fingers to give him more freedom, and if Chris doesn't do as she says there will be consequences. He picks up his fork. Lydia smiles, approving, and tightens her grip again to catch the end of his tie.   
  
"Good," she says.   
  
She lets her hand fall back onto the table, still clutching his tie like a leash, and goes back to her own meal. Chris' breath catches in his throat. There's enough give in the tie for him to sit normally but it still creates the suggestion of control, a reminder of the power he's willingly giving up, and Chris can't concentrate on anything else. It's taking every ounce of self-control he has just to stay seated, but he forces himself to keep taking mouthfuls of the meal he usually can't stand - right now he doesn’t even taste it. His whole body is telling him to drop to his knees, to go limp and boneless and wait for Lydia’s next instruction. He’s desperate for her hand in his hair, her nails on his cheeks, her voice in his ear telling him exactly what she wants from him. He's so lost in his own head he doesn't even notice he's finished eating until Lydia gently prises his fork from his fingers. She winds the tie around her hand again, enough to drag Chris towards her, just a little. She leaves him like that, trapped leaning awkwardly across the table, while she blandly chatters about the restaurant’s service and the quality of their meals. Chris tries to make encouraging noises and occasionally contribute to her monologue, but Lydia’s eyes dance with amusement every time. She knows he's not listening.   
  
Eventually the waiter comes back to clear their plates, and Lydia still has Chris' tie wrapped around her hand. He goes to pull back, because the instinct to play at normalcy is so ingrained it momentarily overrides the instinct to obey. Lydia doesn't release him though, so he can't go far. The tie digs in at the back of his neck and Chris clenches his teeth to keep from gasping for air. Under the table, his erection is throbbing.   
  
The waiter asks if he can get them anything else, and Chris should at least try to smile. He should try to make it look like this is just a gesture of affection. He should act like it’s not slowly destroying him in ways he never even thought to want. But Lydia has that contemplative look on her face, and Chris can't take another second of this.   
  
"Lydia," he says, only it's more like a whisper, more like a prayer.   
  
He hates being made to beg, but he'll do whatever it takes if only Lydia will stop torturing him and take him home. He's not sure there's anything he  _can_  do, though. Lydia does as she chooses and Chris lets her because he wants to, because she's never more beautiful than when she's giving orders, because it's been too long since anyone made him feel the way she does.   
  
Lydia meets his desperate, pleading gaze, and jesus, he should have thought about how much she likes seeing him like this. He tries to put everything he can't say here into the look they share, even if he's a little terrified that will only encourage her. Lydia twirls her hair around her fingers, biting her lip thoughtfully. Then her face breaks into a grin.   
  
"We'll take the check," she says.  
  
Chris practically gasps with relief, not caring how it looks. He wants to kiss Lydia so badly it hurts. The waiter leaves to go arrange it, and Chris immediately reaches for his wallet. Lydia waves him off with her free hand.   
  
"It's on me," she says, laughing. "You're not paying for something you hated."   
  
Chris opens his wallet anyway.   
  
"'Hate' is a strong word," he starts, but Lydia cuts him off.  
  
"One which absolutely applies, I know how you feel about seafood." She smirks at him, and lowers her voice. "You were so good for me, Chris. Let me do this for you."   
  
The praise hits Chris in a way it really shouldn't, sparking brightly under his skin and making him want nothing more than to keep pleasing her. Still, he hesitates. Something cold flashes across her face.   
  
"Put your wallet away," she says. "I'm paying."   
  
The wallet is back in Chris' pocket before he can even think about it. That's hot, but also a bit embarrassing. He had no idea he was that easy. Hoping to distract her from the way his body just obeyed her without his own permission, he gives her a wide, teasing smile.   
  
  
"Since you asked so nicely," he says.  
  
Lydia's eyebrows shoot up, but the waiter returns with the bill before she can do anything. The look in her eyes says he's going to pay for that later, though. Chris is looking forward to it.   
  
Lydia tips generously, but the waiter still gives them a bemused look as they leave. Chris barely notices. Lydia still has hold of his tie, and Chris melts into her side as she leads him out the door. They step outside and it's like being hit with all the things he wants, all the things he's had to force down and deny himself over the past hour.   
  
" _Please,_ " he murmurs, hardly even sure what he's asking for any more.   
  
Lydia smiles and tightens her grip on his tie.


End file.
